A chair beneath the window and she was out, imagining Sander standing behind her, goading her, telling her she wouldnever be brave enough to take that first step. She stared at her feet and took sidesteps while she clung to the wall behind her. Sander’s window wasn’t far, but it seemed like she had walked a league before the opening appeared.
She stepped to the glazed window just in time to see the back of her brother as he disappeared out the door with a sack slung over his shoulder. Though she was quick to cry out this time, no sound left her mouth. Naturally, Sander couldn’t have heard it either.
The window wouldn’t budge, so she beat upon it with her fists. If she could break the glass…
She gave it one final try, adding all the might she could, but the force of it only pushed her off the ledge. The fall made her stomach turn. The soft turf beneath her felt like a stone when she hit, and the unyielding ground tried to push itself through the back of her head.
The blue sky above her turned black.
When she woke, her heart broke knowing she would be too late. She could feel her brother moving away, leaving her behind. If she could only get to the gate faster this time, she could stop him. Stop all of them.
She stood and ran, but the dizziness turned her around, pulled her in the wrong direction. The ground pulled on her, called to her, delayed her. For a minute or two, she could only crawl.
At the corner, she saw all the horses already moving into formation, facing the gate! The march began as always. The man nearest her brother leaned toward Sander and said, “Doona look back.”
With one final effort, calling on her body to stand as it knew how to do, she made it to her feet. Then she screamed with all her might. “Bastard! You cannot have him! Give him back!”
The tall man turned his mount to look at her while the rest continued.
“Give him back or I will see you dead. I vow it!”
She saw clearly the flash of regret in bright green eyes, then he frowned and urged his mount back to Sander’s side. Broad shoulders made broader still by the skin he wore like a mantel. Long dark hair. Those eyes. She needed to remember it all so she could find him again.
As always, Sander would ignore her plea. “Brother, take me with you!”
The boy looked only as far as the man at his side, then down at his saddle. When she begged again, he kicked his horse into a gallop and out the gate.
Her sobs only stopped when she lost consciousness again.
Suddenly, she was in a field of flowers, lying beneath the same man that had taken her brother from her. She recognized the eyes, the dark hair that hung now over one shoulder…as he bent to kiss her.
Tearloch foundquiet refuge in the solar and spent the afternoon skimming through old missives, never truly reading the words. His mind was filled with images of his bride to be. Would she sleep all day? Should he think of a pleasant way to wake her? Kincaid suggested he bring her flowers. He refused to listen to any of Leland’s ideas. And Duncan was nowhere to be found.
Frazier burst through the door without knocking. “Saints be praised, ye’re here.”
Tearloch jumped to his feet. “Out with it!”
He nodded. “Ye’re woman is fit to be tied. None dared open the door. She is…”
They hurried out the door. “She is what?”
“She is angry, sir.”
Angry? His heart stopped racing and his feet slowed. What sort of men were these who could not face a woman’s pique?
The hallway was full, though none of the guards dared stand too near the door. They stood back as he passed, careful to school their expressions. None of them seemed to see humor in the situation, which pleased him. He wouldn’t have them mocking her.
“Go on with ye,” he told them, before he reached for the door handle.
He jumped a little when something heavy struck the door from the other side. The men at his back shook their heads as if urging him not to open it.
He chuckled. “Easy, lads. I am in no danger.” To a man, they looked dubious, but he lifted the latch and pressed on the wood.
It did not budge.
He tried three more times before giving up and pounding firmly. “My lady? Open the door for your laird and master.”
Something hit the door again, and from the sound of it, it struck high up, as if she’d aimed for his head.
